Passion Scenario 2: Possession
by Commander of Brontdor
Summary: Edward awakens in the middle of the night to find Jane possessed by Bertha's spirit, set two years after Jane and Edward's marriage, when one eye has regained sight. Sincere apologies if some find offensive


***Includes swearing, lemon and male rape (extremely sorry if I offend anybody by writing about this)**

The silk sheets flashed a fleeting glimmer as Edward observed, with his remaining working eye their jolts, stretching into fluid-like puddles, and then easing back to their ribbed placidity, he waded into the awareness of his skin being tugged as they made their sharp, quick retreats.

He turned and rolled his searching sight to Jane, his wife.

Shivering tremors shook her body, her knuckles screaming a tensely silent whiteness as she buried her fingertips into her clenched pillow.

"Jane" he whispered, his voice awash with worry as he spread his arms around her waist to hinder her shuddering vibrations with his hold. Her eyes snapped open, instantly bearing a solemnly frantic energy to the night

"My love" he muttered into her ear, resting his head on her ruffled spread of hair "you had a nightmare, my sweet"

She said nothing as she turned her head to him, arching her neck onto his shoulder, her lips parted.

An unsettled distress shifted in his heart as he saw that Jane's face had darkened with the force of the growing ferocity in her eyes, her eyelashes clawing long shadows, framing her forest green spheres.

With a sharp flick of her body, she rolled Edward over, flattening his back to the mattress, pressing firm demand onto his shoulder blades with her talon arched hands.

A coy, wicked smile blooming on her face seemed to rejoice in the ever increasing ripples of fear ripping through his body.

She dived her head to his neck "You need to know when to close your mouth…"

Her voice seemed stooped in some intangible, snarling darkness as she hissed into his ear "and when to open it"

Her tongue assaulted his lips, burning with all the forceful aggression of a knife blade plunging past his flesh, she wrenched his delicate pink apart, greedily sucking their tender tastes, relishing his twinge of resistance.

Edward made startled whimpers at such hostility, he was seized with a panicked disregard for how loud he shouted when he called "Jane! Please stop!" as soon as her mouth tore away from his.

"I'm not Jane!" She barked in between hasty, impatient kisses trailing down his chest, her steely grip clawing his wrists to the bed, smiling against his body as he writhed desperately "Jane, please!", pleading tones sparking his words.

Her hand left the wrist which bared only his scarred stub to slap over his mouth as he felt her hover over his hardness.

Rhythmic, enflamed surges ploughed through fear and resistance as she engulfed him into her mouth, sucking and licking with voracious command, her hand slid away from his lips as she felt him surrender to her bursting desire.

She savoured the heat of his torso as her hand now curved over each muscle, spilling his seed further past her lips, pumping him for each drop of pleasure he could give her, her tongue swimming in it.

When the last yearning sigh dipped from Edward's mouth, Jane raised her head, scraping back her dishevelled tangle of hair.

His eyes slid open through the heaving sea of heat that had blinded them seconds before.

Jane flattened her lithe body onto his, her hands fiddling with his hair, grinning down at him with a leering smirk

Tears beaded his cheek "…Bertha" he sighed in despair

"Be a man, Edward" she snarled, scraping his tears from his face, he winced, powerless.

"You used to do this for me, didn't you?" she purred, past reflections sparkling in her eyes

"I never forced you…" he replied

"I didn't have to; you would get down on your knees for me any time, any day, do you remember, Edward? When I would pull you into some secluded little room, and order you to make love to me, and you would"

She took his jaw in her hand, dragged his face to hers

"That's what I want, Edward. A toy. A slave. And you loved being my slave, my little secret, is that what she does with you? Your Jane?"

Anger rushed to his senses

"She seems so placid, so restricted, but I suppose you help her unwind, don't you?"

"Enough!" He bellowed, slapping his hand to her arm, only to have it trapped once again in her iron like grasp and pinned sharply to the mattress. Delight thrilled in her shrill laugh "Will you be good, Edward?" she growled, her free hand travelling to paw at his lower regions "or should I punish you again?"

Again

Her mouth curled into the terrible snarling grin he was so used to, so achingly desperate to shun from his life, he slammed his eyes shut before feeling her hair tickle his face and neck, her raw heat steaming from her "what does she taste like, Edward, as good as me?" she whispered into his ear

"Bertha… Please"

Fury was melted with fear, the renewed despair that had been dormant with her absence, now flooded his being completely

"Don't tell me you don't like to taste her sweet, wet…"

Her hand shovelled into his hair, snatching his head close, the final torturing words

"…Cunt"

He wept.

Bitter tears had probably planted themselves in their rightful dominion of his mind ever since he had first made an acquaintance with Bertha, in the haze of a Jamaican summer.

He felt her body quiver a swift jolt

"…Edward?"

Jane's own voice plumed through his explosion of desperation, she raised her head to see him

"…Darling… Why are you crying…? Edward, what's wrong?"

There was no twisted barbed demand in her eyes anymore, no lusty violence; they were bursting with concern, smouldering with love. Hastily jolting her head around her in worried curiosity, she climbed off of him before drawing him up and circling her arms softly around his neck, pulling him into her hold "It's alright, my love" she murmured, following the withering trails of tears on his cheeks and peeling away the salty pearls with her lips "what happened..?" She asked through kisses, bewilderment swelling inside her

"I was on top of you…"

He could not emit even the slightest whisper of reply

***You don't have to read this if you don't want to**

Sorry is the swearing offended anyone, may I explain (though you've probably figured it out already, I don't mean to patronise) that it's an intended message on the merciless ferocity of female sexuality, and how men are powerless to it in a way which is rarely registered in society,

especially a society where women's femininity and essence of sexuality is defined by how physically attractive they are and to what extent the use it to please the opposite sex, and men's powerlessness to it is summed up by allowing them to disrespect female sexuality (and females) by treating them as nothing more than attractive, available objects for them to do what they like with


End file.
